


The Fantastic Forties

by orphan_account



Series: The Teenvengers [5]
Category: Fantastic Four, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bucky can't flirt, Cap and Johnny look the same?, Everyone is younger, Sarah Rogers is an entity of sass, Tony hates Reed Richards, why is Clint hugging the toaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:50:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3131792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha, Sam, and Clint get thrown back to 1940. Steve's mom is quite concerned. Tony and Bruce enlist Reed Richards frantically trying to get them back. Steve and Johnny get confused. Sue is incredibly annoyed by Bucky and Ben and Thor have a friendly joust. Can stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fantastic Forties

**Author's Note:**

> For more background on the alternate storyline, check the series description :)

They hadn't meant to time travel, honestly. Finally the whole SHIELD mess had been sorted out, but of course, just because Hydra was gone (mostly) didn't mean that every single bad guy ever was gone too. 

  
The most recent one had control of magic, but it was a very tentative grasp with a lot of mistakes, and there hadn't been a spell that had actually worked the way it was supposed to. Natasha and Clint had managed to corner the villain in an alley, and he was panicking. Panicked, unskilled villains rarely turned out well, so Sam tried to swoop down without alarming him. Sam failed and the man lost it, shooting off spells. One encompassed all three heroes, and they disappeared in a flash of light.   
They crouched in defensive positions as their surroundings changed.   
  
"Where are we?" Natasha asked, looking around the cluttered but clean apartment. The walls were painted green with peeling bits in the corners, and the furniture was old and busted up, but looked comfortable. It was clear that the occupants were poor, but someone had put in a lot of effort to make their surroundings nice.

Clint was about to roll his eyes and proclaim that he didn't know, why would he? when a voice interrupted him.

  
"Who's there?" A woman's voice came from the shadows of the corner. The woman had a thick Irish accent and was carrying a baseball bat protectively in front of her.   
  
"Um, I'm sorry ma'am, we were fighting-"  
  
"Those Keller boys?" The woman interrupted Natasha, tutted, and straightened. She was beautiful, with blonde hair that tumbled loose around her shoulders and bright blue eyes. She looked vaguely familiar to Natasha, though she couldn't place her.   
  
"No, we were fighting a new supervillain and-" Sam tried.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous, supervillains only exist in those comics books and in stories. And if they did exist, they'd be called tax collectors or Englishmen." The woman set the bat down and brushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.  
  
"What year is it?" Clint asked. He'd noticed a complete lack of electronics in the apartment, and the very old-fashioned stove.   
  
"It's November 1940, are you daft? It's not like it's January when everyone gets confused about the date."  
  
"1940?" Sam squeaked.   
  
"Yes, what year did you think it was?" The woman was no-nonsense and spoke quickly, as though she were used to people trying to speak over her. The woman's jaw tightened, and Natasha suddenly knew her.   
  
"You wouldn't happen to know a Steve Rogers, would you?" Natasha asked.   
  
"Oh my god," Clint murmured. Sam simply sucked in a breath.   
  
"Of course, he's my son," Ms. Rogers said.   
  
"Ma'am we're from the future. See?" Natasha tapped her wrist communicator, and a hologram appeared in the shape of Steve's head. "We know your son from that time, and I'm sorry we barged in on you, but we were attacked and sent back in time."  
  
Ms. Rogers was staring at the hologram in undisguised astonishment, and her fingers reached out to brush through it. "Is that my son from your time?"  
  
"Yes," Clint said.   
  
"You're having me on," Ms. Rogers insisted. "He looks so healthy."  
  
"I assure you, we're not Ms. Rogers," Sam said. "But we can't tell you any more. Timelines and all that."  
  
She looked apprehensive, but Clint could tell she believed Sam, somehow. Perhaps it was part of the magic.   
  
"I doubt we'll be here longer than a week, and then you probably won't have any memories of this," Natasha said. "I'm sure Tony will figure something out." Ms. Rogers patted her arm.   
  
"Well, you should get to sleep, it's late and you've all been fighting," she shot them a stern look. "It seems you can all hold your own though," she patted Sam's cheek fondly. "Well done." Sam looked faintly embarrassed, and he shot a look at Natasha and Clint, daring them to say something. Neither of them had any inclination to.   
  
The three of then set themselves up in one corner by the door. Luckily it was a warm night, so not a lot of blankets were needed, and they'd been carrying backpacks while fighting the magician in case of injury or weird magical teleportation (Thor had been dumped in Antarctica once, and though he came back with several selfies taken with penguins, he'd also been freezing). They all had a change of clothes and one of Tony's inflatable sleeping bags.  
Natasha woke up to quiet voices. She sat up and saw Ms. Rogers in the kitchen corner with a young boy that greatly resembled Steve.   
"Natasha, lovely to see you up," Ms. Rogers said warmly. Natasha wasn't usually grateful for magic, especially because it had sent her back in time, but at least the three of them hadn't been kicked out to live on the streets.   
"Hi, I'm Steve," the boy said, and Natasha whirled around to focus on him.   
He looked almost scared at her scrutiny, but his face quickly hardened and his chin stuck out stubbornly.   
"Nice to meet you," Natasha said finally, sticking out a hand, which he took tentatively. "I'm Natasha. How old are you Steve?"  
"I'm twelve ma'am."  
"None of that ma'am stuff, I don't like it."  
Ms. Rogers looked amused as she handed Natasha a cup of tea.  
"Thanks," Natasha said gratefully.   
"No problem," Ms. Rogers said. "Why don't we get you more appropriate clothes?"  
Natasha glanced down at her dirt-smeared catsuit.   
"Well, when in Rome," she quipped.   
She was soon dressed in an old dress of Ms. Rogers', a faded, itchy brown one with a plain collar.  
"Time for school!" Ms. Rogers smiled at Steve. "Let's get going."  
  
"Would you like me to walk him?" Natasha asked. "It'll give you more time."  
  
Ms. Rogers looked her over then nodded, "Thank you Natasha, that would be grand."  
  
"Yeah," Steve said immediately, "but we can't forget Bucky!"  
  
"God forbid," Natasha said seriously.   
  
Bucky lived a building over, and he greeted Natasha enthusiastically, and was in awe of her status as time-traveler once informed excitedly by Steve.   
They were nearly at the school when she finally told the boys they were being followed.   
"They follow us every day," Bucky said.   
Steve remained silent.   
"What do they do?" Natasha asked, turning to look at the young boys behind them.   
"They usually beat us up," Steve admitted.   
"Not anymore," Natasha said. "They come near us, and I'll take care of them."  
"You?" Bucky scoffed.   
"I am Russian," Natasha said. "And the boys with me are superheroes like me."  
They were looking at her in amazement. Natasha was more focused on the buildings and the differences between 2014 and 1940. Sure enough, the five boys following them caught up and stopped them walking.   
"Who's this?" the leader asked. He was the biggest and ugliest, so Natasha figured he was the leader.   
"I'm Bucky's cousin Natasha," she said false-shyfully.   
"You should probably go dollface, this won't be for a woman's eyes."  
"How old are you?" Natasha asked, feeling a surge of anger. This slug was despicable!  
"Thirteen."  
"Huh, when I was thirteen, I'd already killed a man," she said seriously.   
The kid stared at her, and it was clear he thought she was joking despite her serious tone. He went to push her aside and she grabbed his wrist in a crushing grip.   
"I suggest you leave them alone," she said calmly as the little maggot gasped for air, blinking back tears. "Because one day they will be big and strong and perfectly able to beat you up, and it will hurt like this," she gave his wrist a slight twist, just enough to make it hurt a tiny bit more (she wasn't a total monster) "all over you body and in your soul. Understood?"  
"Y-y-yes," said the kid. She let go and the group sprinted away.   
"Bastards," Natasha said after them.  
Bucky and Steve were looking at her like she was the sun.   
Good. That was the natural order of things. 

...  
  
Clint and Sam woke up to an empty apartment.  
  
"What do we do now?" Clint asked.   
  
Sam shrugged. "Honestly, I'm nervous to leave. I mean, this is the forties, they weren't exactly welcoming of black people."  
  
Clint nodded and turned to examine the contents of the kitchen.   
  
Natasha walked through the door in a dress.   
  
Clint wolf-whistled and Sam hit the back of his head.   
  
"Thank you Sam," Natasha said primly.   
  
"What do we do now?" Sam asked.   
  
"We wait," Clint said, settling down and pulling out his bow to polish.   
  
...  
  
Tony and Bruce couldn't trace them. The rest of the team was in the basement lab, anxiously awaiting news.   
  
"We need-"  
  
"Don't goddamned say it Bruce."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Shut your whore mouth Bruce."  
  
"We can't do this alone."  
  
"Lalalalalalala not listening. My fingers are in my ears see! I've gone deaf."  
  
"Tony for the love of-"  
  
"I am the night!" Tony screamed. "Nananana nananana Batman!"  
  
"Tony will you just-"  
  
"This isn't Tony Stark, this is an alien! No wait, I'm a live model decoy! Anyway, no Tony to be found here."  
  
"Do you want them safe or not!" Bruce bellowed.   
  
Tony took his fingers out of his ears.   
  
"Fine, let's call the asshole. He's going to be insufferable."  
  
Reed Richards, age 25, arrived with a smirk and a briefcase, tailed by the rest of his team, the 22 year old Sue Storm, her 18 year old brother Johnny, and 24 year old Ben Grimm.  
  
"Well, this is a novelty," Reed said. "You needing my help."  
  
"There's lives at stake, stop being a dick," Tony grumbled.   
  
"Pleasure to meet you Dr. Richards," Bruce said, "I'm a fan of your work, particularly..."  
  
Thor had no idea what was being said, as Midgardian terms were so different than those used on Asgard, so he instead lead Ben and Johnny to the kitchen. Sue had decided to stay and help, but Johnny had taken one look and said "Lol, nope!" and Ben had just shaken his head and followed.   
  
"You look a great deal like the good Captain," Thor commented.   
  
"Ugly over here?" Johnny said, pointing to Ben. "You're kidding, right?"  
  
"I meant you, mortal," Thor responded, nostrils flaring. "I do not care of how you speak. He is your teammate, your ally. You should respect each other."  
  
"I respect him, it's just lighthearted teasing," Johnny said. The elevator door opened. "Whelp, Johnny out!"  
  
He bounded out but froze upon seeing Steve. Steve hadn't put on his age disrupter, but they would have looked almost identical either way. The only real differences were age and hair color.   
  
"Wow," Bucky said. "That's crazy."  
  
"Shall we leave them to it?" Thor asked Ben. "There's an excellent training room in the basement that could probably withstand a wrestling match."  
  
Ben chuckled. "Count me in."  
  
They left, but Steve and Johnny still hadn't spoken or blinked, just stared at each other.   
  
"Steve?" Bucky said. "Steeeeeve!"  
  
Steve didn't even look at him.   
  
Bucky narrowed his eyes before rolling them and heading downstairs.   
  
...  
  
Susan Storm was used to getting hit on. She wasn't used to getting hit on by WWII vets that were also Russian ex-assassins as well as cocky teenagers, but there was a first for everything.   
  
"Well hello there," said a voice. "How you doing gorgeous?"  
  
Sue turned to see a teenager, definitely younger than her brother, smiling at her.   
  
She raised her eyebrows. "I'll give you to the count of ten before I rip off that prosthetic and shove it down your throat. One, two..."  
  
He scrammed.   
  
Sue turned back to science, ignoring the alarmed looks she was getting. She was not a piece of meat, thanks.   
  
...  
  
"Are you sure you're not me?" Johnny asked.   
  
"For the millionth time, yes," Steve said. "I am a completely separate person."  
  
"But do you realize what this means?" Johnny said.   
  
"No, what?"  
  
"We get to be twins!" Johnny said excitedly, jumping to his feet. "Come on, let's go get hats and stuff so we look the same. Where do you keep that stuff?"  
  
"Why are you Tony with my face?" Steve mumbled as he brought Johnny to the coat closet.   
  
...  
  
Sam was cleaning the apartment. Clint was hanging upside down from a pipe that looked way too thin to hold his weight, but still managed through the sheer force of Clint's will. Natasha was sharpening her knives.   
  
"Why Sam, why?" Clint moaned. "Watching you wipe the counters is making my arm hurt."  
  
"That might just be the bruises," Natasha said. "You got a bit sloppy."  
  
"I'm cleaning because I'm not a freeloader," Sam said. "Unlike you."  
  
"Fuck off." Clint slipped down gracefully and spread himself out on the ground. "I'll mooch if I damn well please."  
  
Natasha got off the couch and grabbed a broom from the corner by the door. "Well, if Clint thinks it's okay to do something, it probably isn't."  
  
"Rude," Clint said.   
  
"We're not the rude ones," Sam teased.   
  
A few minutes of silence passed before Clint spoke again. "I wonder how much all my ones will get us here."  
  
The three of them exchanged excited glances.   
  
"Let's see if the bank will accept it!" Sam cheered, and they raced out the door, completely forgetting that they had no idea where to find a bank.   
  
...  
  
"Not too bad," Ben said, letting out a long whistle at the sight of the large, underground training facility. It was cool in the room, with the walls and floor lined with red exercise mats. Harsh fluorescent lights kept the room lit in every corner, including the corner with the boxing ring, the other corner with the punching bags, another with a collection of hardy-looking robots, and the last with a small door next to a rack of water bottles and towels.   
  
"It is quite nice," Thor agreed. "Shall we begin?"  
  
Ben's rocky face broke out in a grin. "Ready when you are kid."  
  
Thor summoned his hammer, and they began.   
  
Ben went straight for the stomach, but Thor managed to dodge at the last moment. He fell into the role of fighting a stronger opponent easily, focusing on gaining speed and being aware of the other man's limbs at all times. Thor landed a solid hit with Mjolnir, placing a tiny crack in Ben's rocky forearm.   
  
Ben hissed.   
  
"Apologies," Thor said, somersaulting to avoid a punch and being eternally grateful that he'd been training with Natasha recently.   
  
Ben just laughed and landed a punch of his own, sending Thor flying back a few paces.   
  
"No apologies needed here," Ben said, grinning at Thor. Thor grinned back.   
...  
  
"Hey ladies!" Johnny called. He and Steve were sitting on a bench in central park. Johnny had set the settings on the age disrupter to make Steve look eighteen, and with hats on, they looked exactly the same.   
  
Steve blushed bright red when the girls turned to look at them, their eyes narrowed.   
  
"They're just walking down the street, why don't you just leave them alone to do it? I'm not sure they like being catcalled," Steve said.   
  
"Ptah," Johnny rolled his eyes. "Who cares. Come on, I could really use a coffee."  
  
Of course, that was when the reporters appeared.   
  
"You tell them who I am and I will get a fire extinguisher and shove-"  
  
"Calm your tits Cap, you can be Tim."  
  
"Why Tim?"  
  
"Because I said so."  
  
...  
  
When little Steve and little Bucky barged into the apartment, they stopped immediately, mouths dropping open.  
  
"Let's just say that I don't have a problem with inflation when in the past," Clint said.   
  
They stared at him.   
  
Clint shifted.   
  
"Snack?" Sam offered them chicken sandwiches.  
  
They accepted the sandwiches gratefully and began eating.   
  
"Good?" Natasha said in amusement as Steve nearly had an asthma attack from inhaling his sandwich.   
  
"Just hungry," Bucky explained.   
  
The three time-travelers exchanged glances. They hadn't realized just how bad off Steve and Bucky had been as children. At least they'd had roofs over their heads, though not much more than that. That was why they'd used a lot of the twenty to buy food, enough for Bucky to bring to his apartment.   
  
"When does your mom get home?" Natasha asked as Bucky left the apartment with a cheerful wave and a large bag of groceries.   
  
"Six," Steve said. "Bucky comes back over then. Now he has to go take care of his sister."  
  
"So do you usually make the dinner?" Clint asked.   
  
Steve nodded. "More than usually."  
  
"Well not today," Sam announced. "Today I will cook!"  
  
...  
  
Reed pounded the table in frustration. "Dammit, that should have worked."  
  
"If you're not going to help, maybe you should just leave," Tony said, eyes narrowed.   
  
Reed literally swelled in anger. "Excuse me, who figured out the-?"  
  
"Sue," Tony said flatly. "You've done nothing but stretch around my lab and be a dick."  
  
"He'll be more able to help when we get past this one part," Bruce said. "Once we get- YES!"  
  
"You did it!" Sue said.   
  
"Yeah Brucie!" Tony clapped his back.   
  
"Okay," Reed cracked his knuckles, "now it's my turn."  
  
...  
  
Ms. Rogers sat down weakly in a chair when she came home and saw her cupboards full for once.  
  
"It was the least we could do," Sam said.   
  
A single tear leaked out of her eye. "Thank you. You can't know what this means to me."  
  
"I grew up in the circus, and I wasn't well off before that," Clint said. "I can guess."  
  
She smiled at them. "I can never repay you."  
  
"Well, your son has saved our lives multiple times. It's us that can't pay you back properly," Natasha said.   
  
"When you three get back, you tell him that I love him and that I'm sorry he's without me. I'm proud of him, always proud of him."  
  
There was a bright light in the room and Ms. Rogers looked around, confused. Where had that food come from? What had she been saying? What was going on?  
  
Well there was no use looking a gift horse in the mouth.   
  
...  
  
"You're back!" Tony did a dance around his workshop. He grabbed Bruce and they began tangoing. "We're geniuses!"  
  
"I hope you're including me," Reed said.   
  
"Oh of course they are," Susan said. "Come on, let's go collect the others. It's my turn to pick the board game."  
  
Reed groaned.   
  
"The forties are weird," Clint said, then he ran up the stairs. "Television!"  
  
"They were," Natasha confirmed. "But Steve's mom was nice."  
  
"Where is Steve?" Sam asked.   
  
Tony and Bruce traded looks. They shrugged.   
  
"He's been kidnapped by Johnny Storm," Bucky said, walking in the room. "Nice to see you guys back. Why is Clint hugging the toaster?"  
  
"You were a very cute twelve year old," was all Natasha said before going upstairs. She needed a large bowl of ice cream.   
  
"1940," Sam said. "Sorry man."  
  
Bucky stood frozen. "Nothing to feel sorry for," he said, then furrowed his brows. "Were you the ones that bought all that food?"  
  
"Yeah, a lot," Sam said.   
  
"I remember not knowing where it came from but not really minding," Bucky said. He still looked lost in his thoughts. "Thanks."  
  
Sam patted his shoulder.  
  
...  
  
"I'm not fireproof!" Steve screamed. "Help!"  
  
Johnny laughed. "I have enough control not to burn you. You're not on fire, are you?"  
  
"Yet!" Steve yelled. Johnny was carrying him over the streets of New York, completely made of flames.   
  
Johnny just laughed again. "Wuss."  
  
"No, I just don't like burning to death!" Steve said. "Bring me back home, I want to check on my team."  
  
"Bossy, bossy," Johnny muttered, but he brought Steve back to the mansion.  
  
"Your mom says she's proud of you," Natasha said when she saw Steve.   
  
Steve looked at her in confusion and Sam, Clint, and Natasha dragged him upstairs to explain what had happened. 


End file.
